The Labors of Hercules 1

Peter Paul Rubens, Hercules and the Nemean Lion (c. 1620) 

Francisco de Zurbaran, Hercules Fighting with the Nemean Lion (1634) 

Marcello Bacciarelli, Hercules and the Nemean Lion (1777) 

Stoic Snippets 159

Nature has had regard in everything no less to the end than to the beginning and the continuance, just like the man who throws up a ball. 

What good is it then for the ball to be thrown up, or harm for it to come down, or even to have fallen? 

And what good is it to the bubble while it holds together, or what harm when it is burst? 

The same may be said of a light also.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.20 

Aesop's Fables 57

The Goose with the Golden Eggs 

One day a countryman going to the nest of his Goose found there an egg all yellow and glittering. 

When he took it up it was as heavy as lead and he was going to throw it away, because he thought a trick had been played upon him. But he took it home on second thoughts, and soon found to his delight that it was an egg of pure gold. 

Every morning the same thing occurred, and he soon became rich by selling his eggs. 

As he grew rich he grew greedy; and thinking to get at once all the gold the Goose could give, he killed it and opened it only to find—nothing. 

Greed often overreaches itself.  

Dhammapada 239, 240

Let a wise man blow off the impurities of his self, as a smith blows off the impurities of silver one by one, little by little, and from time to time. 

As the impurity which springs from the iron, when it springs from it, destroys it; thus do a transgressor's own works lead him to the evil path. 

Epictetus, Discourses 1.25.4

Here is a king chosen by lot at the Saturnalia: for they decide to play the game of “Kings”. He gives his orders: “You drink, you mix the wine, you sing, you go, you come.”

 

 I obey, that I may not break up the game.

 

“Now believe that you are in an evil case.”

 

I do not believe it, and who will compel me to believe it?

 

Again, we agree to play “Agamemnon and Achilles”. 

 

He who is given the part of Agamemnon says to me, “Go to Achilles and drag away Briseis.” I go. 

 

“Come.” I come. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.25 

 

During the winter solstice holiday of the Saturnalia, the Romans had a tradition of picking a “king” for the festivities, who would lead the merriment and amuse the celebrants by giving entertaining orders to his “subjects”. 

 

I imagine this as a more elaborate version of a game like “Simon Says”, and I suspect it could lead to both great laughter and a bit of mischief. 

 

As when children, or some adults who have never managed to grow up, feel challenged by a dare, there comes a point when it is best to defy the demand and be called a chicken. How far is too far? 

 

This provides a helpful parallel to the standards of Stoic living; the significance of the “game” exists on very different levels here, but the general guidelines are comparable. 

 

I am free to accept any command or any dare, as long as it does no harm, and I should be willing to bear any circumstance, as long as it does not compel me to violate my conscience. 

 

Simon says, “Touch your nose while jumping up and down.” 

 

Not a problem. 

 

Simon says, “Embarrass yourself in front of all your friends.” 

 

I prefer to ask for their esteem, but I can do that if you insist. 

 

Simon says, “Now despair of your life because your friends no longer love you.” 

 

I’m sorry, I won’t do that, whatever you might say. I can’t control their respect, and neither can you control my self-respect. 

 

Fortune determines how events will happen to me, and I am called to accept that as just; I determine how I will form my own values, and I will not allow another to make me unjust. 

 

If I were a servant to someone like an Agamemnon or an Achilles, and my master commanded to go fetch what was his, I would obediently do so. 

 

Do not, however, ask me to think and to desire like an Agamemnon or an Achilles, as I would rather die than submit. 

 

Don’t mess with what is mine. Keep your vacation homes and your trophy wives—I guard my soul. 

—Reflection written in 3/2001 

Abandoned Places 36

Romain Veillon, The Ghost Hotel 

Nature 38

IMAGE by Francesco Ungaro (2010)

Howard Jones, Human's Lib 3

I don't recall "Pearl in the Shell" getting a proper US single release, though it did have one in the UK, so I could still hear it on a few of the alternative or college radio stations. Yes, I could always play it on vinyl, but there was something so wonderful about hearing a beloved song being broadcast over the airwaves, perhaps because I was pleased to know that other people were also listening along. 

It is still one of my favorite Howard Jones tunes, yet I grappled with my understanding of the lyrics for a time. Too many teachers at school would berate me for not living up to my potential, or for failing to have sufficiently ambitious dreams, and I was suspicious that Mr. Jones was joining in on the scolding session. 

Well, it all really depended on the sincerity of those dreams, didn't it? It wasn't my dream if it only ended up involving what other people told me to do. They said I should read great books so I could get into the best college, or play an instrument so I could win a seat on a respected orchestra. What if I found my joy and my purpose in reading or playing for rather different ends? 

I suppose it never occurs to some people that a noble life doesn't have to be about impressing anyone else. A fear that often hindered me from following my actual dreams was the prospect of disappointing those folks who merely measured me by my worldly success. 

—4/2007 

A few words of commentary from Howard Jones: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IT306CwIbfY&list=OLAK5uy_n5l18WnEVMglBXaVQ8Usm9sbEWgkvnx6I&index=5

And the song itself: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTRuoXEbvjE&list=OLAK5uy_n5l18WnEVMglBXaVQ8Usm9sbEWgkvnx6I&index=6

Howard Jones, "Pearl in the Shell" from Human's Lib (1984) 

And the fear goes on shadows
And the tear flows on for nothing
And the fear goes on shadows
And the tear flows on for nothing

Under his nose was a dream come true
Been there all the time and he almost knew

And the fear goes on shadows
And the tear flows on for nothing
And the fear goes on shadows
And the tear flows on for nothing

Under his nose was a dream come true
Been there all the time and he almost knew
Thoughts of people in misfortune stopped him doing things well
His duty was to use it—left his pearl in the shell 

Sayings of Publilius Syrus 74

A good man's severity is next neighbor to justice. 

Stockdale on Stoicism 25

Neither good nor evil can be abstractions. Epictetus said: "Where do I look for the good and the evil? Within me, in that which is my own." 

But for that which is another's never employ the words "good" or "evil," or anything of the sort. Goods and evils can never be things others do to you, or for you. 

Why not make health or life be good? Because man deserves the good, and it's better that he not "deserve" anything he does not control; otherwise, he will go after what is not his, and this is the start of crime, wars, you name it. 

—from James B. Stockdale, The Stoic Warrior's Triad 

Epictetus, Discourses 1.25.3

When you have instructions and commands from Zeus such as these, what commands would you have from me? Am I greater or more trustworthy than He? Do you need any other commands if you keep these of His? Has He not laid these commands upon you? 

 

Look at the primary conceptions. Look at the demonstrations of philosophers. Look at the lessons you have often heard, and the words you have spoken yourself—all you have read, all you have studied.

 

“How long, then, is it right to keep these commands and not break up the game?”

 

As long as it is conducted properly. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.25 

 

When rightly attuned, my conscience has its authority from the order of Nature itself. 

 

Where I am patiently willing to see things as they are, and not merely as I might wish them to be, the touchstone for the good life is found in a conformity to being, not merely in the vanities of seeming. 

 

If this is indeed true, why am I looking to the prestige of the doctor, the lawyer, or the politician to guide my way? It is quite possible for them to possess wisdom, and yet that would be completely accidental to the prominence of their professions, just as being either rich or poor has no direct correlation to any moral worth. 

 

Even the mysterious allure of the priest or the sage is like a cheap parlor trick when compared to the strength of genuine character. Why bow to the words of pundits and specialists, when the one thing that truly matters can be found by looking at the reflection of God in my own soul? 

 

The only philosophy that counts is the kind committed to virtue in action, completely indifferent to posturing and dictating. 

 

While the task might seem overwhelming at first, and the language largely alien, the task at hand is refreshingly simple: what choices are best if I want to be happy? 

 

I am well advised to listen attentively to what others have to say about it, though I should not be fooled when they flash their supposed credentials, and in the end each and every one of us has the same inner capacity to arrive at a functional answer. 

 

If I exercise the mind as if it were a muscle, day to day, I will no longer be so impressed by the braggart who poses and flexes. 

 

Observe carefully. Make a note of the patterns. Ask how and why it unfolds as it does. Work backwards, so to speak, from the effects to the causes. When I can go no further, the chances are I have arrived at something substantial, a set of first principles that underlies the diversity of what I see. 

 

I find I am a creature made to understand and to love. I find that I must consider all my other circumstances as relative to that end. I find that nothing is ever in vain. I find my particular way to serve in a Universe charged with Providence. 

 

Is there some limit to following these rules? When do I stop? 

 

As these are the hallmarks of my humanity, I don’t stop, unless continuing onward would itself require me to compromise that dignity. Then I can depart in the knowledge of a job well done. 

—Reflection written in 3/2001 

IMAGE: Heinrich Füger, Jupiter Enthroned (c. 1800) 

Sayings of Ramakrishna 170

"I must attain perfection in this life, yea, in three days I must find God; nay, with a single utterance of His name I will draw Him to me." 

With such a violent love the Lord is attracted soon. The lukewarm lovers take ages to go to Him, if at all. 

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 3.49

Of the desire after eternal life, and how great blessings are promised to those who strive 

1. “My Son, when you feel the desire of eternal happiness to be poured into you from above, and long to depart from the tabernacle of this body, that you may contemplate My glory without shadow of turning, enlarge your heart, and take in this holy inspiration with all your desire. Give most hearty thanks to the Supreme Goodness, who deals with you so graciously, visits you so lovingly, stirs you up so fervently, raises you so powerfully, lest you sink down through your own weight, to earthly things. For not by your own meditating or striving do you receive this gift, but by the sole gracious condescension of Supreme Grace and Divine regard; to the end that you may make progress in virtue and in more humility, and prepare yourself for future conflicts, and cleave unto Me with all the affection of your heart, and strive to serve Me with fervent will. 

2. “My Son, often the fire burns, but the flame ascends not without smoke. So also the desires of some men burn towards heavenly things, and yet they are not free from the temptation of carnal affection. Thus therefore they are not acting with an altogether simple desire for God’s glory when they pray to Him so earnestly. Such, too, is oftentimes your desire, when you have imagined it to be so earnest. For that is not pure and perfect which is tainted with your own self-seeking. 

3. “Seek you not what is pleasant and advantageous to yourself, but what is acceptable and honorable unto Me; for if you judge rightly, you must choose and follow after My appointment rather than your own desire; yes, rather than anything that can be desired. I know your desire, and I have heard your many groanings. Already you long to be in the glorious liberty of the children of God; already the eternal home delights you, and the heavenly country full of joy; but the hour is not yet come; there remains still another season, even a season of warfare, a season of labor and probation. You desire to be filled with the Chief Good, but you cannot attain it immediately. I AM that Good; wait for Me, until the Kingdom of God shall come. 

4. “You must still be tried upon earth, and be exercised in many things. Consolation shall from time to time be given you, but abundant satisfying shall not be granted. Be strong therefore, and be brave both in working and in suffering things which are against your nature. You must put on the new man, and be changed into another man. You must often do what you would not do; and you must leave undone what you would do. What pleases others shall have good success, what pleases you shall have no prosperity. What others say shall be listened to; what you say shall receive no heed. Others shall ask and receive; you shall ask and not obtain. Others shall be great in the report of men, but about you shall nothing be spoken. To others this or that shall be entrusted; you shall be judged useful for nought. 

5. “For this cause nature shall sometimes be filled with sadness; and it is a great thing if you bear it silently. In this and many like things the faithful servant of the Lord is wont to be tried, how far he is able to deny himself and bring himself into subjection in all things. Scarcely is there anything in which you have need to mortify yourself so much as in seeing things which are adverse to your will; especially when things are commanded you to be done which seem to you inexpedient or of little use to you. And because you dare not resist a higher power, being under authority, therefore it seems hard for you to shape your course according to the nod of another, and to forego your own opinion. 

6. “But consider, My Son, the fruit of these labors, the swift end, and the reward exceeding great; and you shall find it no pain to bear them then, but rather the strongest solace of your patience. For even in exchange for this trifling desire which you have readily forsaken, you shall always have your will in Heaven. There verily you shall find all that you would, all that you can long for. There you shall have all good within your power without the fear of losing it. There your will, ever at one with Mine, shall desire nothing outward, nothing for itself. There no man shall withstand you, none shall complain of you, none shall hinder, nothing shall stand in your path; but all things desired by you shall be present together, and shall refresh thy whole affection, and fill it up even to the brim. There I will glory for the scorn suffered here, the garment of praise for sorrow, and for the lowest place a throne in the Kingdom, for ever. There shall appear the fruit of obedience, the labor of repentance shall rejoice, and humble subjection shall be crowned gloriously. 

7. “Now therefore bow yourself humbly under the hands of all men; nor let it trouble you who said this or who ordered that; but take special heed that whether your superior, your inferior, or your equal, require anything from you, or even show a desire for it; take it all in good part, and study with a good will to fulfill the desire. Let one seek this, another that; let this man glory in this, and that man in that, and be praised a thousand thousand times, but rejoice you only in the contempt of yourself, and in My own good pleasure and glory. This is what you are to long for, even that whether by life or by death God may be ever magnified in you.” 

Epictetus, Discourses 1.25.2

“Nay, but give me commands,” says the student.

 

What command should I give you? Has not Zeus laid commands upon you? Has He not given you what is yours, free from hindrance and constraint, and what is not yours subject to hindrance and constraint? 

 

What command then have you brought with you into the world, and what manner of ordinance? Guard what is your own by all means, grasp not at the things of others. Your good faith is your own. . . . 

 

Who can take these qualities from you? Who shall hinder you from using them but yourself? And how will you do so? When you take no interest in what is your own, you lose it and it ceases to be yours. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.25 

 

One part of an eagerness to move on is the desire to jump ahead to the answers without pondering the questions. I usually associate this with a distinctly modern longing for instant gratification, but then a writer like Epictetus reminds me how both the strengths and the weaknesses of human nature are remarkably constant. Why should I have to put in the effort when someone else can provide the solution ready-made?

 

It can’t be ready-made at all, of course, because the very meaning of the conclusion only makes sense within the context of figuring out the proof for myself. Do you remember how annoyed you were when a math teacher demanded that you show your work? It turns out he was onto something important, and it applies to far more than just problems with numbers. 

 

And so the student naively thinks he can pressure the master into providing a set of rules, and then mechanically following said rules will somehow bring enlightenment and happiness. Yet understanding is something I can only do for myself, and it cannot be done for me, just as living well is something I must freely choose on my own terms, and another is powerless to manage my decisions. 

 

If I take the time to reflect, I will see that I do not need to look to the outside for a model of living, since I already contain the instructions on the inside. They are not written down with any words, though they are most certainly written into my nature, which is itself an expression of the Providence that rules over the whole of Nature. 

 

Beyond the sensitive powers I share in common with other animals, I further possess a mind and a will, undeniably present in every act of my experience, and serving as the ultimate arbiters of all my actions. These truths are self-evident to me, on account of such functions being inseparable from my conscious identity, and not merely because some “expert” has dictated them to me. 

 

Yes, God, by whatever name you wish to address Him, has granted me these capacities, through the exercise of which I am able to become myself most fully, to grow into who I was intended to be. By my knowledge, I am made to comprehend the forms of things, and by my choice I am made to love their purpose. 

 

There need be no rocket science here, no impenetrable secrets. When I strip away the dirt, the years of accumulated diversions, I will find that this is who I am, as my very essence. This is what Zeus has commanded me to do, a privilege I should feel honored to receive. 

 

That my free judgments are at one with my being is further indicated by the fact that they are mine to determine as long as I still live. Where I am content to rule myself, I will be at peace with myself; where I lay claim to what is under the authority of another, I bring myself nothing but conflict and grief. It’s funny how beautifully Zeus worked this out for all of us. . . .  

 

Let me be careful, therefore, not to look for my happiness in externals, because then I will be abandoning the natural properties I should hold most dear. 

—Reflection written in 3/2001 

Hans Holbein, The Dance of Death 47: The Young Child

Stoic Snippets 158

Everything exists for some end—a horse, a vine. Why do you wonder? 

Even the sun will say, I am for some purpose, and the rest of the gods will say the same. 

For what purpose then are you—to enjoy pleasure? See if common sense allows this. 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.19 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 31

XXXI. 

Is any one saluted or embrac'd
With more respect than you? or higher plac'd
At table? Is he thought more grave and wise,
Or better parts, and abler to advise?
Grudge not: but, if these things be good, rejoice
They're plac'd so well, and meet so good a choice:
And if they're bad, why should you take offence,
That you in these have not the preference?
But how can you, that neither cringe nor bow,
Nor other antick spaniel-tricks do shew,
Nor flatter, fawn, forswear, assent or lie,
Nor use that servile knavish industry,
By which base supple slaves their ends obtain,
The same respect, or the same favour gain?
And how shall you, who scorn to condescend,
With early morning visits to attend
Th' awaking of a rich, proud, pow'rful friend,
Expect to share th' advantages that fall
To him that helps to fill his crowded hall?
Or, like a centinel, still walks before
His patron's house, and almost courts his door;
Who, after long attendance, thinks he's bless'd
As much as Persians bowing to the east,
When the sun rises from his watry nest;
And swears the eastern god doth not dispense
A kinder, or a gentler influence,
And that each look, each smile of his, doth bring
Warmth to the summer, beauty to the spring;
Who, when his lordship frowns, admires the grace
And manly fierceness that adorns his face;
Applauds the thunder of his well-mouth'd oaths,
And then the modish fashion of his cloaths,
And vows the taylor, who the garments made,
Happy in making them, though never paid.
These are the means by which he stands possess'd
Of favours, by each fly-blown fool caress'd,
At ev'ry feast an acceptable guest.
These if you'd purchase, and not give the price;
Unjust, unsatiable's your avarice;
As for familiar instance, what's the rate,
The gard'ner holds, and sells his lettuce at?
Let us suppose a farthing; he that buys
Bears off the purchase, but lays down the price;
Your sallad wants these lettuce, you with-hold
The small equivalent for which they're sold;
Nor is your case a jot the worse for this,
For as the lettuce, which he bought are his,
So yours, who did not buy, the farthing is.
Thus if you're not invited out to dine,
You pay not for his meat, nor for his wine;
For he (be not deceiv'd ) who entertains,
Doth it not gratis, he too looks for gains;
Right bounteous tho he seems, he sells his meat,
And praise expects for every bit you eat;
Each luscious draught, each pleasing delicate,
Is but a specious snare, a tempting bait;
You the rich entertainment dearly buy
By mean, obsequious, servile flattery.
If then these things that must be purchas'd thus,
Seem useful to you and commodious, 
Lay down the value, do not think to get,
Unless you give the rate at which they're set,
These if on easier terms you would provide,
And without paying for them be supply'd,
How can your foolish wish be satisfy'd?
'Well then, but shall I nothing have instead
Of this dear feast, that still runs in my head?'
Yes, if you're not insatiable, you have
Enough in lieu thereof, you're not a slave;
You have not prais'd him who's below your hate,
You've not admir'd his dinner, nor his plate,
Nor past a complement against your will,
Nor in low cringes shewn your aukward skill,
Nor fed his dogs, to shew the vast respect
The master of the fav'rites may expect;
Nor did you admire his sumptuous furniture,
Nor all that civil insolence indure,
With which at meeting he informs you how,
When you depart his presence, you must bow,
Nor have you born his arrogance and pride,
While he surveys his board on ev'ry side,
And fancies that he's bountiful and great,
And thinks he makes you happy by his meat.

Dhammapada 235-238

You are now like a withered leaf, the messengers of death have come near to you; you stand at the door of your departure, and you have no provision for your journey. 

Make yourself an island, work hard, be wise! When your impurities are blown away, and you are free from guilt, you will enter into the heavenly world of the elect. 

Your life has come to an end, you are come near to death, there is no resting place for you on the road, and you have no provision for your journey. 

Make yourself an island, work hard, be wise! When your impurities are blown away, and you are free from guilt, you will not enter again into birth and decay. 

Epictetus, Discourses 1.25.1

Chapter 25: On the same theme. 

 

If this is true, and if we are not silly and insincere when we say that for men good and evil lies in the region of the will, and that everything else has no concern for us, why are we disturbed or fearful anymore? 

 

No one has authority over the things in which we are interested: and we pay no regard to the things over which others have authority. What more have we to trouble about? 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.25 

 

This chapter is a direct continuation of the previous one, and while I had originally only skimmed over the first part, I apparently skipped this second part entirely, since it seemed quite new to me many years after my first exposure to the Discourses. 

 

I was probably eager to move on to a new topic, as restless young men are inclined to do, and the bitter irony is that some close attention to this argument could have done me a world of good during the most turbulent part of my life. 

 

I suppose I finally came to it when I was ready, as I do believe that nothing ever happens by accident, even though it may take the broader perspective of hindsight to gradually discern the patterns. 

 

As is true for so many of us, I constantly struggle with a disconnect between my thinking and my doing. I was immediately drawn to the ideals of Stoicism, and I was sure I had it all figured out, but then I would regularly find myself caught in situations where the old attitudes would reappear, and I reacted just as I had before. 

 

Yes, I do know that modifying a habit will take some time, but there was something else going on here. The initial instinct was to toss out the theory, complaining that it wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, and yet I then realized how my thinking wasn’t completely formed to begin with. 

 

I was settling for a vague apprehension, never bothering to put each step of my reasoning to the test, always jumping ahead in my fuzzy concepts when I should have been working on my awareness with a patient concentration. 

 

And where my judgments were off, just floating around without any attachment to reality, my estimation of the good was blunted in operation. I was still afraid of being alone, or still worried about money, or still longing for gratification precisely because nothing about my values had really changed. In practice, I still assumed that fame, fortune, and comfort were somehow in themselves desirable. 

 

Don’t blame the principle—blame your failed comprehension, and hence your execution, of the principle. 

 

I regularly scoffed at the prospect of any meditation, though I ended up with my own primitive form of it. I began to stop myself in the middle of a crisis of character, and I would close my eyes to focus on untangling the benefit from the harm. 

 

Would it help me to build my powers of understanding and love? Then it was worthy. Would it only get me caught in diversions about circumstances beyond my control? Then I must let it pass over me. 

 

And you know what? With little baby steps, it actually worked. A flirtatious smile from a mysterious woman no longer inspired ridiculous romantic dreams, as I had a fuller sense of what love was really about. A bottle of Irish whiskey no longer beckoned me to dull my senses, as I grasped why running away was never an answer. 

 

Where my consciousness could change, right down to the core, my behavior could also change. A brutally honest assessment of my priorities offered a liberation from caring about the things that didn’t truly matter. 

 

Once I admitted how the only real good or evil for me was in the nature of my choices, and had nothing to do with the lay of the land, those dangers that once seemed so big now receded into the distance. 

 

“This isn’t my business, and so I don’t have to manipulate it. This can’t hurt me, and so I don’t have to be afraid.” This is a mantra I catch myself repeating over and over. As I distinguish the greater from the lesser, so my situation is mine to tame. 

 

Do I still struggle with that disconnect? Each and every day, but now I have an improved ability to get right back up again whenever I stumble and fall. 

 

There are no monsters under the bed, only an impression of monsters. 

—Reflection written in 3/2001 

Vanitas 61

N.L. Peschier, Vanitas (1661)